Chapter Five: The Mechanics Of Motherhood
~BlackRoseRaven
Thorn ran through the underbelly of Decretum, leaping from one gear to the next as he kept his eyes focused forwards. The first thing he'd done after his period of being grounded had ended was slip his way into the castle again and make his way down into the workshops. And with the security sentinels all disabled, the colt had been able to focus on the locked box he'd never been able to open, using telekinesis to wiggle the lock until he'd finally managed to pop it open.
He'd slipped his way out the same way that he'd left before: of course, this time he was able to just follow the passages the drill had already cut through the stone. He also could have easily backtracked and left the usual way he did, but... this time, he wanted to conquer this on his own. He wanted to prove that he could do this. After all, he'd run dozens of times through the underbelly of gears and pistons and machinery now... maybe this path was a little more complicated, but he remembered where the archway was... and even if Hecate had just flown over to it, he knew she couldn't boost-jump herself more than a few hundred meters at the most. He'd be able to find his way to that same doorway.
Thorn leapt off a massive gear, landing on a piston before he hopped quickly across two more, using them as stepping stones to a metal platform he landed on with a grunt. He took a moment to breathe here, testing his hooves against the steel before his eyes slid down and locked for a moment on two faint scars in the metal.
The colt smiled briefly: this was where Hecate had picked him up last time, wasn't it? Another glance around confirmed it, and he bit his lip before quickly circling the small platform, focusing back on the task at hoof. There were a few snapped cables hanging from one open side, letting him assume there had once been some kind of bridge out here: this had likely been a maintenance or observation platform of some kind.
Thorn's eyes swept around the area, the colt biting his cheek. Sure, he'd been confident before that he could find his way out of here, but now, well... all he could see was an endless forest of ever-thundering, ever-moving machinery.
He shifted nervously back and forth, then finally faced in the direction the hoof-shaped scars seemed to point, noting another platform only a short distance away, but much higher up. He thought he could reach it, however, by traveling along a makeshift bridge formed from several interlocking gears, and then he could ride up one of the larger counterweight blocks...
Thorn bit his lip as his eyes traced his passage: he noted that he was going to have to jump up onto a massive, thick gear as well, which was moving slowly and ominously with several other gears and some kind of long, arm-like mechanism that he thought controlled the gear's timing. The colt studied this uneasily, shifting apprehensively: from what he'd learned about Decretum and the machinery that controlled Clockwork World, he knew that had to be a master gear.
The master gears were responsible for keeping the machinery that ran entire sections of Decretum working: if they were tampered with, it could easily knock an entire quadrant of Decretum offline. Hecate said it would be very important to upgrade and shield this machinery better one day... but for now, they had to just concentrate on getting all of Clockwork World back online.
So if she ever found out he had so much as touched one of the master gears, well... Thorn knew that he'd be in a lot of trouble. But he also didn't see a whole lot of other ways up: once he was at the master gear, there were at least four different paths he could take, thanks to the interlocked gears and the other patterned mechanisms.
There was nothing he could do but make a run for it though: going back wasn't an option, and the closest way out past that master gear. The colt bit his lip, staring almost desperately upwards before he finally set himself, grinding his hooves against the platform as he breathed quickly in and out... and then he forced himself to take the first leap of faith to the nearest gear.
Thorn kept his eyes forwards, leaping across the turning gears and throwing himself onto the stuttering counterweight before he winced and rode it upwards as the piston bar it was attached to pumped downwards, sending up a wheeze of steam from the machinery below.
Thorn kept his eyes focused ahead, leaping up to another piston, hopping across a weighted bar, then gritting his teeth as he bolted across a large, slowly revolving cylinder to leap off and finally land on the master gear with a laugh. He took a moment to breathe, smiling widely before he looked quickly back and forth as he walked towards the edge of the enormous cog, careful to keep away from where it interlocked with the other gears.
He paced slowly backwards against the rhythm of the clanking gear, going just a little faster than the mechanism was turning. Up here, he could hear the machinery clanking and thudding all around him, and the colt did his best to tune it out as he searched for the easiest way up-
The gear clanked, and something slammed down behind him, Thorn yelping and arching his back as his tail was snared between the gear and the timing bar. He flinched and scrambled wildly at the metal, trying to yank himself free in panic, and then he flinched when the timing bar released and allowed the gear to turn.
The colt fell on his side, wincing as he half-rolled and one of his forelegs flopped out over the edge of the gear, and Thorn had just enough time to start to shift before the timing bar dropped.
There was a terrible crunch, and at first, a sensation like... like his foreleg had just plunged into cold water. A moment later, there was the pressure, and as the timing bar ground downwards, the mechanism whirring as it jammed, Thorn's mouth fell open and he stared in horror at his crushed and ruined foreleg... and then, only when he had seen, only as his mind struggled to try and process what was going on... then the pain hit.
Thorn threw his head back, screaming, as an agony like he'd never felt tore through his body. He writhed helplessly, trying stupidly to jerk his limb free... and the pain, the unbearable, absolute pain that tore through his being knocked him flat on his stomach, trying helplessly to wiggle forwards, shrieking in pain as tears spilled from his eyes, his bladder let go, and everything he was and had been was lost to the inferno of pain that felt like it was consuming his body, his spirit, his very soul.
The master gear groaned and rumbled beneath him as the timing bar continued to crush downwards. Thorn was barely aware of his own howling and sobbing, of the way his body shuddered and jittered, of the urine staying his legs and spreading out from under his body as blood ran down the worn black metal, polishing the grooves and scratches.
Thorn was no more aware of the floating drones and security orbs that zipped past him than he was of anything else: all he knew was pain. Even when heavy metal hooves slammed down onto the master gear next to him, he couldn't see, couldn't react, couldn't do anything but scream and cry, unable to fall unconscious, but equally as unable to comprehend anything that was happening around him.
Hecate stood over Thorn, floating drones and security orbs hovering around her. She looked down at him, her neon blue eyes wide and staring, her mechanical body trembling as she convulsively opened and closed her steel fingers, her mouth slightly ajar, but no sound coming out. She looked at him, not even knowing what she was feeling... only knowing that the instinct to save this colt was greater than the callous things her logical mind demanded.
Hecate breathed slowly, trying to sort out her thoughts, trying to make sense of what was happening right in front of her as Thorn screamed and cried before she clenched her eyes shut and forced herself to assess the situation. She didn't have to look to know that the limb would have to be amputated: the question at hoof was how much.
The mechanical mare lowered her head slightly. Right now, the easiest thing to do would be remove most of Thorn's shoulder. Then she could have the drones simply remove the rest of the limb from the machinery and reset the jammed timing bar.
But if she freed Thorn, then she could better see the damage, and perhaps amputate further down. In order to do that, though, she'd have to stop the master gear: if she removed the timing bar, she'd just cause the master gear to revolve faster. And as it was, this master gear kept the turbine systems and Imperia's Castle District running, keeping the complex machinery above working on time to avoid wild power fluctuations and system failures.
Hecate looked silently down at Thorn, who was screaming, and crying, and reeked of urine and blood and fear. She looked at the little colt, and flexed one steel fist as that cold, callous part of her mind told her that it would be easier, it would be more merciful, it would be more logical just to kill him. End his pain, remove a problem from her world, eliminate the body and make the repairs to the master gear that much easier.
Hecate gritted her teeth as her eyes opened, and she rose a steel fist before slamming it savagely down, sending up a tremendous bang as Thorn's eyes bulged open in shock.
He looked up, staring as Hecate rose her fist again before she slammed it down once more into the gear beside him, and the entire cog shook with the force of impact before Hecate gritted her teeth as she slammed a third vicious punch into the edge of the master gear. And with a screech of metal, the immense cogwheel dropped more than a foot down the support bar as a klaxon blared, then listed slightly to the side.
The sound of the gear screeching down its support almost drowned out Thorn's scream as his foreleg was nearly torn off by the timing bar sliding against it, but as the safety overrides engaged, the jammed timing bar released, letting Hecate reach quickly forwards and simply swing a metal arm into the timing rod. She smashed it free from its tracks with only a gesture, sending the damaged timing bar flying down into the stalled machinery below, while at the same time she grabbed Thorn with her other hand and shouted: “Disengage the security locks, then begin repairs on the machinery!”
The security drones buzzed and quickly shot off on their assigned tasks as Hecate stood up, shifting Thorn to cradle him in one arm as she gingerly grasped his crushed foreleg... and she did her best to ignore Thorn's screaming and flailing, his little hooves bouncing uselessly off her armor as his head snapped back and forth.
Hecate's horn glowed, and then her hand sparked before lightning surged down Thorn's limb, for a moment making him scream louder... and then he fell limp, gasping weakly for breath, eyes rolling in his head and foam dripping from his jaws. But she had paralyzed his leg and numbed his nerves for the moment: the most she could do for him from here.
His foreleg was... ruined. But she saw where she could cut, preserve the shoulder and some of the limb beneath it, if she could get him to...
What the hell was she doing? Hecate turned quickly, striding across the master gear before she leapt upwards, the boosters in her legs kicking in and jets of cold fire propelling her up to land on another gear above. Her weight was enough to make this gear shift slightly, but she didn't care as she leapt forwards again, once more boosting herself to reach the metal walkway that led to the exit. Thankfully, her drones were actually doing their jobs and were already opening the security shutter that had dropped into place once tampering had been detected with the gears...
A master gear. She had just triggered an emergency shutdown in a master gear, for... for this colt. And yet as she looked down at Thorn as he whimpered in her arm, she felt no regret, no anger: she was just... worried.
She ducked beneath the shutter, then hurried down the passage beyond: when she reached the ladder at the other end, she simply leapt upwards and used her boosters to accelerate her up the narrow shaft, rerouting her mechanical body's power down into the thrusters in her lower limbs, even as warnings began to glow over her lenses about overstressing her body and overheating her internal systems.
She smashed through the trapdoor and landed in a crouch in the basement as her boosters kicked off, her legs visibly steaming and her steel hooves slightly melted. But she didn't hesitate, didn't slow as she strode quickly towards the stairs, already shouting: “Prepare the medlab for emergency surgery!”
An approval message appeared in the lower corner of her lens, but Hecate only growled and flicked her head sharply to the side, dismissing the screens clouding her eyes. She focused on nothing but her goal, heading straight to the main medical lab and stomping straight to the airlock leading into the surgery theater.
Machines buzzed on all around her, pumping the room with a decontaminating mist, and Thorn whimpered weakly in her grip as the haze filled the air around them. He tried to stir, to move his paralyzed and ruined limb, and Hecate silently shifted him closer under the cover of the mist, leaning down and whispering quietly into his ear: “It's going to be okay, Thorn. I have you. Sleep now...”
She reached up her free hand as she hugged him closer against her steel breast, metal, unfeeling fingers tenderly and carefully stroking up along his face before she curled them gently into his scalp, holding his head against her breast before her horn thrummed silently.
Magic pulsed through the air, then channeled through her arm and into Thorn, the colt blinking a few times before he groggily closed his eyes, then slumped silently into deep, painless sleep. Hecate looked down at him without a word, licking her lips slowly before she took a slow breath... then looked up, face becoming a cold, emotionless mask again as the vents whirred to life, quickly clearing the mist as the other side of the airlock opened.
Hecate strode through into the surgical theater, quickly laying Thorn down on a steel table that had already been prepared and untangling his satchel from around him to toss it off to the side. Two Dogmatists waited off to one side, while three Enlisted Outworlders came forwards, one of them gasping behind her mask: of course today of all days, Peridot was on duty here. That made sense.
“Get back.” Hecate said sharply, barely sparing a look at the ponies, and they all immediately stumbled to a halt before Hecate turned her eyes towards Thorn, her horn glowing and quickly securing the safety straps into place around his other limbs as she continued calmly: “I will be attending to the patient personally. You will assist but not interfere. Understood?”
One of the ponies began to open his mouth, likely to say something stupid, but Peridot hurriedly elbowed him before she said quickly: “Yes, ma'am. Understood.”
Hecate turned her attention back to Thorn, and then she said quietly, as she gazed silently down at the face of her colt: “Good. Bring me a laser scalpel. And one of you, prepare a stocking. I will be designing a simple prosthetic for him to wear: he will be fitted with it within the week.”
Two of the ponies looked surprised, but Peridot only nodded before saying pointedly: “I'll bring the equipment over. Blaze, you get the stocking.”
“I uh... yes, right away.” Blaze said after a moment, and the last pony only shrugged and stepped back, apparently deciding just to stay out of the way for now. But Hecate wasn't paying attention: she was already carefully stretching Thorn's limb out, grimacing a bit as she touched along his foreleg and located the best place for the primary incision.
Hecate's mechanical hands moved with a dexterity that could scarcely be matched even by the telekinetic powers of the most talented unicorn. She guided the scalpels and clamps to the millimeter, one eye glowing faintly as readouts and analyses constantly spilled across its surface, telling her everything she needed to know about Thorn's condition and the state of the limb she was currently working on.
She worked for two hours: removing the limb was a fast, brutal process and ended with her carelessly tossing the ruined and broken leg off to the side for one of the Dogmatists to clean up. To her, it was nothing but damaged materials, worthless scrap. Instead, all her focus went back to Thorn, the mechanical mare carefully removing ruined muscle, shortening bone, gently attending to ripped and frayed nerves to minimize the pain the colt would feel when he woke up. She also took the time to attend to wounds and damage over his chest: Thorn likely hadn't even realized it, but he had badly cut himself on the edge of the gear, and the pulling on his limb had actually caused tears to radiate through his chest as well. But even if it wouldn't be very pretty cosmetically, she could still bandage and clean the wounds.
She fitted the stocking herself as well: a simple, circular interface that covered the end of the limb. Once she constructed his prosthetic limb, she would replace this with something more advanced. For now, though, this would be best, until she had a chance to talk to Thorn. Until she had a chance to tell him what the surgery would entail, and she could...
Hecate closed her eyes, bowing her head forwards, her mane of lightning and cables half-shielding her face as she breathed slowly in and out. She was silent as she gripped into the metal table in front of her for a few moments, and then she finally stepped backwards, straightening and swallowing her emotions as she rubbed her mechanical hands together slowly, ignoring the blood that had polished them over the course of her work. “Peridot. Take Thorn to Recovery and stay with him. I will come by later to relieve you of my duties once I have finished dealing with other business. Decretum is now behind schedule.”
Hecate began to turn away, and Peridot bit her lip before leaning forwards and blurting: “Lady Hecate, your hands... you still have blood on them.”
Hecate stopped, then looked silently down at her metal claws, flexing them slowly open before she clenched them into fists, watching the way they shivered as servomotors whined quietly and steel digits dug into steel palms, damaging metal plating, putting pressure on the clockwork and hidden mechanisms under her not-skin and not-flesh...
“Yes, I do.” Hecate said quietly, and then she simply flicked her hands downwards, magical energy surging over them and turning the crimson to nothing but steam as she strode quickly towards the airlock, doing everything she could not to look back over her shoulder as she reflected silently that no matter what she did... she didn't think she could ever wash her hands clean.
Hecate calmly sat beside Thorn's bed in Recovery, the mechanical mare looking almost ridiculous in the pony-sized chair she was seated in. She had done some minor repairs to her mechanical body, but it hadn't felt... particularly important for her to deal with right now.
She had a holographic screen in front of her, but she was only staring at it listlessly, watching as numbers and statistics rolled by. She knew she should be doing some of the work, that her half-programmed AIs and the Dogmatists she had left in charge wouldn't be able to handle everything themselves for very long.
But she didn't care. All she could think about was Thorn, and all she could do was stare at him, study him silently, think about all the ways that she'd... failed him.
She closed her eyes: when she opened them, she was Celestia, seated silently on her steel throne, her front hooves resting in her lap. She reflected how even if they were painted and primed with darker polish, there was almost no difference between the material that made up her hooves and the material that made up her seat.
Celestia silently stroked a hoof up a body that was armored with steel, and cloaked in a fine, fur-lined red cape. She closed her eyes as she reached up and grasped the edges of this in either steel hoof, pulling it tighter around her... but she received neither warmth nor comfort from the finery wrapped around her. Her mutilated, cybernetic body couldn't feel either anymore...
Slowly, she gazed around her empty throne room: once it had been filled with proud Solar Guard, members of the Day Court, visitors from far and wide... and now, it was nothing but emptiness, and cold metal pillars wrapped in chains, and ghostly electric lights that cast a hollow radiance over this hollow hall.
She was a Queen. And she was nothing but a glorified administrator of a world that had gone from paradise to wasteland. The worst part was that it wasn't the war that had done this... it was her own stupidity. Her own idiocy, her own weakness, her foolish... love.
The mare gritted her teeth, hugging herself silently, her horn sparking before her eyes snapped open as her mane crackled with lightning around her head. Her mane's rainbow of colors was long gone now, and the strands of ephemera had separated into sizzling and crackling strands of energy and electricity... but Celestia thought bitterly that reflected her better, anyway. She was slowly losing everything that had once made her a pony, flesh and blood included... soon, she'd be nothing more than another machine of Valthrudnir's.
She took a slow breath, then reached up and silently rubbed at one eye: it was no longer amethyst, but instead a glowing, neon blue. She had lost the vision in that eye, thanks to the fact her genetic structure was breaking down with all the energy coursing through this body: a body that was failing and dying even as it grew stronger, with every passing day...
But in this world of machines and corruption, nothing was beyond repair: what a sick joke that was. No, she had just gone to the medical laboratory, and they had popped her eye out, added some new microchips to her brain, fitted her eye with a new iris and a protective lens, and then wired her eye right back into her head. And all of it had been done within a day.
Celestia gritted her teeth, looking down bitterly. And all she could feel was disgust and contempt and anger, not thankfulness: if Valthrudnir had wanted to, he could heal every malady in the world, cure every disease, provide stability and a decent life for every person, not just every pony, in this world...
And instead, what did he do? He used his machines to torment, to play with their lives like a cruel child playing with... insects, or... puppets, really. Because that's all they were to him: nothing but toys, and meat that happened to be capable of moving. Valthrudnir couldn't even acknowledge the fact that she and her fellow ponies were really alive, actually had emotions, feelings, thoughts of their own... to him, they were nothing but stupid, worthless animals...
Or almost all of them, at least...
But maybe she was just fooling herself.
Celestia took a shuddering breath, then she shook herself slowly before gritting her teeth and hugging herself again, whispering quietly: “I promise you this... I'll never again be weak. I'll never forget that we are all alone, that emotions are just... lies, that there's no such thing as... as...”
Celestia closed her eyes... and Hecate opened them. She looked at Thorn, where he lay silent and unconscious, and then she reached a mechanical hand forwards to silently stroke his face, whispering quietly: “I promise you, Thorn. I'll never again be weak. I'll never forget that the only reason we end up alone, is because we push others out... I promise I won't push you out. I promise I won't push you away...”
Thorn stirred, then silently pressed his face into her mechanical hand, his eyes flickering before he opened them and whispered: “Mom?”
There was no great burst of surprise, nor any overflowing feeling of love or companionship for Hecate. There was no need to acknowledge Thorn, or her own feelings – good or bad – with any great speech, with any huge gesture. There was no need to correct him, or pretend she hadn't heard him.
All Hecate did was ask quietly: “Yes?”
Thorn's eyes hesitantly opened, looking up at her, and he trembled for a few moments before tears began to run from his eyes, and he whispered: “I'm... I'm so s-s-sorry...”
“Stop that, Thorn.” Hecate chided, but she was gentle as she leaned down towards the colt, her eyes studying him silently. Her lenses told him all his biometric information and how he was doing physically, but there was no scanner, no technology that could tell her how Thorn was doing emotionally. For that, there was just her eyes, and the maternal instincts that had apparently never left her, no matter how hard she had tried to excise them. “Don't upset yourself. You're...”
She quieted, then simply sat back and remained silent as Thorn shifted and trembled before raising what had once been a foreleg, and was now just a stump. He stared at this, swallowing thickly and whimpering weakly, and Hecate thought about all the things she could say: she could tell him that she was going to have a synthetic leg fitted for him within the week, or that he was lucky to have survived, or how glad she was that he was okay...
Instead, she simply reached forwards and gently scooped him up, and Thorn trembled for a moment before he threw himself against her, clinging to her with his remaining foreleg and dropping his head into the sanctuary of her metal chest as he burst into tears.
Hecate only silently held the colt close, cradling him and rocking him as gently as she could in her mechanical embrace as she sighed softly, only gazing down at him. But she knew it was important that the colt got this out of his system, and... for once, she thought she could let him cry.
Thorn didn't cry for as long as she expected before he forced himself to straighten up, rubbing at his face silently with his remaining foreleg as the stump of the other shifted beside him. She studied this silently, noting how he was trying to move the limb that was no longer there, and how much every shift pained Thorn... but she knew it wasn't the physical pain that was bothering him right now. Thorn was a tough little colt, after all... he handled pain as well as some of her Enlisted Outworlders did. But losing a limb...
Hecate silently grasped the colt's stump, and Thorn whimpered a bit... but then only looked up at her, with trust, and self-loathing, and... was that apology in his eyes still? All this, and still, he was apologizing to her for this and blaming himself... “You are an idiot, Thorn Blackfeather.”
Thorn dropped his head with a flush, and Hecate sighed softly before she murmured quietly: “I will design your prosthetic limb myself. I will also manage the dressings on your chest: you suffered some very nasty lacerations. You will need surgery in a few days to remove the stocking and fit a...”
She hesitated, licked her lips, shifted a little and pulled the colt a little closer before she murmured quietly: “I can't make everything okay, Thorn. But... I will make it easier.”
Thorn nodded silently, looking down at his stump of leg and shivering a bit before he whispered: “Okay, Miss Hecate. I... I promise that... I'll do my best. I'll... be strong.”
“You don't have to be any stronger than you already are, Thorn. I won't ask that of you.” Hecate replied with surprising gentility, shaking her head slowly before she murmured: “We'll take this step-by-step. I... promised to protect you. I am sorry that... I have not entirely lived up to that promise.”
Thorn only smiled faintly, lowering his head and starting: “It was my fault-”
“No, Thorn. It is not just your fault.” Hecate said softly, shaking her head slowly. “Yes, what you did was stupid. You put yourself at risk. You are responsible for your injuries, in part.” Hecate looked calmly at Thorn, who flinched a little... but she thought there was a strange sort of gratitude in his eyes, too. But Thorn was strange, for a colt: he didn't want reassurances and platitudes. He wanted honesty. He wanted the truth. And the truth was... “It is my fault as well, though. I closed my eyes to what you were doing. I introduced you to the ruins and made you think that you had to do something to impress me, to earn your place here. And I told you, too many times, to leave me alone and deal with your problems on your own...”
Hecate stopped, then looked down, saying softly: “But you are a colt. You should be bothering me. You should be asking for help. And I should be there for you, more than I should have. Whether you are an employee or... my ward. You are my responsibility, and I have... pushed you too hard.”
She looked away for a moment, then shook her head before shifting Thorn back to the bed, carefully tucking the colt in and checking him over silently. For now, there were no IVs, no tangles of cable, no needles or injections. The equipment monitored him soundlessly and painlessly, and Peridot could manage his discomfort with her magic. It was better if Thorn was actually drinking and eating a little bit on his own for now, anyway.
Thorn looked up at her quietly, and then, as Hecate shifted, he blurted: “Please don't go!”
Hecate stopped, and Thorn flushed before lowering his head and whispering: “I mean... I'm sorry. I just... I'll be-”
“I have to calibrate the power supplies manually from the main terminal, Thorn. But I will not be gone long. I promise I will return within an hour.” Hecate said quietly, and Thorn looked up at her... with trust, as much as anything else. And Hecate promised herself she wasn't going to betray that.
Thorn nodded hesitantly, and then he murmured: “I'll... you don't have to, though, I'll... I just...” Thorn shifted looking at his stump silently before he reached up and touched it hesitantly.
Hecate softened, then she said softly: “Get some rest, Thorn. I'll be back shortly.”
She didn't let herself hesitate any longer, turning and activating a timer in the corner of her vision. The numbers rattled down over the lens, and Hecate found herself paying more attention to that than she did to her work...
She all the same finished recalibrating the power modulators with more than enough time to spare: she didn't waste those minutes, however, making her way quickly back to Thorn's side. She reached him, as promised, a few minutes before her hour was up... although it looked like the colt had fallen asleep.
All the same, she sat herself carefully down beside him, studying him silently... and then smiling briefly when a sensor beeped quietly. She shook her head slightly, then said softly: “I'm not going to leave, Thorn. So sleep.”
Thorn smiled embarrassedly, an eye half-opening... but then he simply gave a small nod and closed his eyes. And Hecate softened as the colt curled up a little, the mechanical mare only hoping that she could keep her promise to this... this stupid little colt.
Her adopted son.
Four days later found Thorn Blackfeather standing on four legs again.
The young colt stood quietly, studying his new foreleg apprehensively as Hecate looked clinically over the colt. She had taken the measurements precisely, and the limb fit him perfectly... for now, anyway. She would have to lengthen it in the future... or more likely, completely replace it, because in her eyes this prosthetic was nothing but a stopgap.
The smooth, simple mechanical limb was designed to look like a normal pony's: she couldn't hide the fact it was made of solid metal, but she could make it look... natural, for lack of a better word. And it moved and flexed almost as naturally and easily as the real thing, thanks to the nerve socket that Hecate had implanted in Thorn's stump. As Thorn grew older, the socket would have to be replaced several times until he reached full maturity... but so far, it didn't seem like it was hurting the colt.
Thorn carefully leaned on the mechanical limb... and Hecate nodded with a grunt, studying it meditatively. It seemed to support his weight adequately, without any discomfort... but she would have to check for pressure sores and other problems later.
Thorn looked awkwardly up at Hecate, and then he winced when the mechanical mare pointed out at the obstacle course: she had reduced the difficulty greatly, but Thorn still paled slightly before he shook his head hurriedly, beginning in a fumbling voice: “M-Miss Hecate, I... I mean, I can't... I just got out of surgery-”
“I am aware of this. I was there, Thorn.” Hecate said irritably, and Thorn winced and dropped his head before Hecate continued: “Your surgery was three hours ago. You've had healing magic applied to you by several unicorns as well as nanomachine and serum treatments. Your muscles are adjusting and your body is sore, but you can handle this exercise. In fact, exercise is necessary.”
Thorn lowered his head, but then he simply nodded a little, blushing quietly and not wanting to go against Hecate's wishes. There was silence between them for a few moments, and then Hecate added quietly: “And stop referring to me as 'Miss.' It annoys me.”
“Okay... Mom.” Thorn said, a little bravely, and Hecate gave maybe the slightest of smiles before the colt swallowed a bit and carefully tested his new mechanical leg again: he'd done a little bit of walking with it, but otherwise, well... “I um... I don't know if this is such a good idea, though.”
“It's necessary.” Hecate said moodily, and Thorn winced and dropped his head, nodding awkwardly. For a moment, there was silence between them before Hecate simply pointed at the obstacle course again, and Thorn lamely dropped his head and turned towards it, embarrassedly scraping his steel hoof against the ground.
He flinched after a moment, then looked down in surprise and studied his steel hoof for a few seconds. But Hecate wasn't impressed yet, even if she was glad that the mechanical leg was reading his unconscious movements as well as his conscious ones.
Thorn hesitated a few seconds longer, but then he finally straightened and nervously approached the obstacle course. He bit his lip as he studied the ramp leading up to the first platform, and then he gave an awkward laugh before asking hesitantly: “Is... is there a par?”
“The same as it's always been, Thorn.” replied Hecate evenly. Thorn began to shift uncomfortably, and then Hecate said calmly and coldly: “Thorn, you are not 'disabled.' You are not any less of a pony than you were before. You are not weak, or vulnerable, and I do not need to – and furthermore, will not – coddle you, or protect you from the world. Your parents were strong enough to make the best of any bad situation. Show me that you are too.”
There was silence for a few moments, and then the colt swallowed thickly before he nodded quickly, turning his eyes back towards the obstacle course. He bit his lip, then looked down at his mechanical foreleg before Hecate said in a gentler voice: “Focus.”
Thorn nodded a little, then he took a slow breath as he strode up to the base of the ramp, setting himself and biting his lip before he asked nervously: “It's... it's not going to fall off or anything, right?”
Hecate only gave Thorn a dry look, and the colt nodded lamely before he turned back towards the ramp, taking a deep breath as he readied himself. Hecate gave him the time to prepare and calm down, waiting for him to settle before she straightened slightly, then ordered: “Go.”
Thorn leapt forwards, charging up the ramp: he looked incredulous at how easy he was moving, and Hecate smiled slightly in spite of herself. The limb functioning correctly meant a lot less to her than the fact that Thorn had apparently learned enough from his training not to stumble to a halt even if he was surprised.
She watched as Thorn shot through the obstacle course, leaping across tilted platforms, then sprinting across a narrow bridge before sliding across a zipline, then hitting the floor at a run and leaping several hurdles without a hitch. She felt... pride, she thought. And perhaps the strangest hint of what was almost shame: for all her tough words, she had set this course at an even lower difficulty than when Thorn had first run it.
But the moment the colt leapt across the finish line, Hecate leapt forwards, stomping a hoof savagely down towards him. Immediately, Thorn leapt to the side, then ducked under a sweeping kick before he ducked away from another stomp. Hecate's fist lashed down immediately after, though, and Thorn paused, so Hecate pulled her punch to minimize the damage her colt was about to take-
Thorn swung his own metal leg up, and mechanical fist pounded into steel prosthetic with a hail of sparks, Thorn flinching and ducking behind it... then he stared up at her with surprise as Hecate's own eyes widened.
For a moment, they were frozen like that... and then Hecate hurriedly stepped back, rubbing awkwardly at her face in an embarrassed gesture before she narrowed her eyes at him and snapped: “Your prosthetic leg is not battle-hardened, Thorn! Do not hide behind it like a cheap shield!”
The colt lowered his head and blushed a bit, looking down at his mechanical foreleg and biting his lip at the scuffing along the limb before he said quickly: “I'm sorry. I didn't-”
“No apologies.” Hecate said irritably, before she reached down and quickly grasped Thorn's metal leg, pulling it out so she could examine it. Her eyes roved back and forth along the prosthetic, but even if her fist had scratched it, most of the damage seemed to be cosmetic. That was probably in part because she always pulled her punches at the last moment with Thorn, but still...
Hecate dropped the mechanical limb, leaning back meditatively before she asked: “Are there any points of discomfort?”
Her scans told her there were a few points of friction she'd have to repair when she got the time: Thorn, of course, simply shook his head and rubbed at his shoulder, saying quietly: “It just feels... heavy, I guess. I just have to get used to it, I think.”
Hecate didn't bother scolding Thorn: instead, she simply nodded briefly, then she called up a holographic screen in front of her, tapping over it with one finger and bringing up the schematics for Thorn's foreleg. She examined this thoughtfully as the colt looked up at her uncomfortably, before the mare dictated calmly: “Increase shell integrity and consider redesigning inner frame. Make adjustments for weight distribution.”
Notes scrawled across the screen, and then Hecate simply waved the holographic image away before returning her eyes to Thorn, studying him intently again. Thorn winced a little at this, shrinking a bit under her gaze before he opened his mouth, but the mechanical mare quickly held up a hand and said distastefully: “If you apologize to me again, I will take your leg away and leave you to hobble around on three limbs.”
Thorn flushed and lowered his head, mumbling another apology out of reflex, and Hecate sighed tiredly before she shook her head slowly, saying moodily: “Enough, Thorn. Stop apologizing. Or at least do something worthy of apology.”
“I just... want to take responsibility. I respect you, Miss Hecate, I...” Thorn stopped, then smiled and blushed a little when Hecate gave him a dry look. “I mean... Mom.”
“You may also just call me Hecate, Thorn. When you are working, I expect you to use my proper title. But when you are off duty, you can refer to me by whatever means you want.” Hecate said softly, gesturing off to the side with one hand. “You are my ward and the colt I suppose I have... willingly allowed into Decretum. Your situation is different from the many other Enlisted Outworlders that I have brought here.”
Thorn looked up at her quietly, and Hecate looked back down at the colt for a few moments before he shook his head and said softly: “I still have to respect you. You're... you're not like Mom or Móðer. But you're still like a mom to me. You care about me and you take care of me and you're really really nice when you're not so... serious.”
“Serious.” Hecate gave a wry smile, shaking her head briefly. Well, the colt had a bit of a way with words, anyway... “I suppose I've been called worse, Thorn.”
She stopped, then looked down for a moment at one of her mechanical limbs, flexing it slowly, before her eyes roved silently to Thorn's foreleg. Her smile faded gradually, and there was an uncomfortable silence between the two for a few moments before Hecate said softly: “I want you to know that I... am not happy about what's happened.”
Thorn tilted his head in confusion, and then he blushed a little and dropped his gaze, murmuring: “It's okay, I... I know I did a bad thing. I was stupid and-”
“No, not that.” Hecate cut off irritably, shaking her head and glaring down at Thorn, and the colt winced and quailed a bit before the mare softened, feeling a burst of self-loathing as she reached up and rubbed slowly at her face. It was so hard to find the words: not just to swallow her pride, to speak to this colt as an equal, but to just... think of what to say...
“I... would have saved your leg if I could.” Hecate said finally, silently rubbing at one of her own mechanical forearms. Metal fingers scraped against metal, brushed over cold and unfeeling plates that secreted machinery a hundred times stronger than a mortal pony. Machinery that could be easily replaced, repaired, rebuilt... that was better, in almost every way, than soft flesh and frail bone and easily-torn muscle...
Her eyes roved silently to Thorn's mechanical leg. A leg that would be stronger, better, more adaptable than his real limb ever could have been. A leg that, if it was crushed or destroyed or broken, could be easily fixed, repaired, or replaced...
Hecate's gaze traveled upwards, and the two looked at each other silently for a few moments before Thorn said quietly: “I know you're not trying to turn me into a Clockwork Pony, Miss Hecate. I know you're just... doing your very best for me, honest. You... you shouldn't feel bad about that, because I really appreciate it.”
The mechanical mare studied the colt for a few moments, and then she finally lowered her head and gave a quiet sigh, muttering: “I will not waste my words with gratitude, Thorn.”
Thorn only smiled and shrugged awkwardly, and Hecate sighed before she simply pointed towards the doors, saying moodily: “I want you to walk for at least thirty minutes, then head to your room. I will meet you there.”
Thorn simply nodded, then he hesitated visibly before suddenly hopping forwards and hugging Hecate's leg. The mare reared back slightly in surprise, arms spreading a little as she looked disbelievingly down at the colt, but Thorn only smiled awkwardly up at her before he blushed and leapt away, hurrying towards the door and stumbling childishly over his own forelegs.
Hecate simply stood for a moment, and then she shook her head and gave a short laugh before slowly rubbing at her face, muttering: “I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore by anything that idiotic child does, but...”
She stopped, then looked down and closed her eyes for a moment... and there. There, in her mind, she saw Thesis, smiling up at her happily, a young and innocent colt hanging off her neck with his embrace, and she was smiling, cradling him against her body, hugging him back as tightly as she dared...
Hecate's eyes opened, and she shook her head briefly before she moodily slammed a fist against her breast as something inside her clanked, the mare muttering: “Enough. Old data, that's all. There's nothing further to be learned from examining it.”
Still, the memories played through Hecate's mind, mixing with the thoughts of Thorn today... and she only hoped silently that Thorn's mechanical leg wasn't just the first misstep down another path of failure.